


Misc WTNV drabbles

by whitedatura



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Terrible Jokes, unrelated drabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 04:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitedatura/pseuds/whitedatura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A compilation of unrelated Night Vale drabbles originally posted on my tumblr.</p><p>Includes: chores, a terrible pick-up line, Carlos going bald, the Faceless Old Woman and Hiram McDaniels on a blind date, and a few others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chores

**Author's Note:**

> It drives me nuts to not have all my stuff in one place, so I'm posting these to AO3. They're minimally edited since they're just little drabbles, so if you see a typo or something please feel free to let me know. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil and Carlos dividing up chores after they move in together at some unknown future date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](http://whitedatura.tumblr.com/post/64872437502/wtnv-drabbles-chores-carlos-cecil).

**Vacuuming**

"Carlos, what are you doing? What is that strange device?"

Carlos stared at Cecil and flicked the off switch on the vacuum. "It's a vacuum? I'm... cleaning the floor?"

"Oh! Why didn't you ask Aezriljinimth?"

"Ask what?"

Cecil said some words in what was probably modified Sumerian. A rippling _thing_ moved over/through/under the floor of their apartment and in a matter of seconds it was clean.

"Uh," said Carlos, staring at the floor. It had even cleaned the spot where he was standing. "How about you handle that from now on?"

"Okay," Cecil said. "Did you invent that thing just to clean the floor? That's so cute."

Carlos sighed.

 

**Dishes**

"Hey, Cecil, do you think we could get some real dishes sometime?" Carlos asked, dumping their paper plates into the trash. Not that he particularly _enjoyed_ doing the dishes, but it was would be less wasteful and more cost effective.

" _Real_ dishes? Are you saying that these are _not_ real dishes?" Cecil sounded offended and confused, because of course he did.

"Never mind," said Carlos.

 

**Laundry**

Cecil lifted his red- and fuchsia-striped sock out of the washer in horror. He peered in at Carlos's lab coats.

Carlos's _pink_ lab coats.

Not that Carlos wouldn't look handsome in pink, because he totally would, but Cecil didn't think he'd appreciate the change. He was _very_ particular about his lab coats. Especially the formal one.

He was dialing Josie before he realized he'd picked up the phone.

"Help," he whimpered.

"I'll send Erika over with some bleach. It will be fine."

***

"Did you do something different with the laundry?" Carlos asked, pulling one of his normal everyday lab coats out of the closet. Cecil still loved to gaze at their clothes hanging side-by-side. "My lab coats seem... really white."

As a matter of fact, Carlos's lab coats were all so white they were glowing. Literally.

Cecil tried not to gulp audibly. "Oh, well, we were out of detergent so Old Woman Josie loaned me some of hers and I think it might have been angel-touched?" He winced at the way his voice rose at the end like it was a question. Erika had _definitely_ touched it.

But Carlos only smiled and leaned over to kiss Cecil. "See you for lunch."

 

**Dusting**

In a flash of inspiration, Carlos put the duster down and called, "Hey, Cecil?"

"Yes, my lovely Carlos?"

Someday Carlos would get used to the way Cecil sometimes appeared out of thin air. Today was not that day, but he was proud of himself for only jumping a little. "Does the Aez – Aezril – Aezrilly thing consume dust, too?" 

And there was that look, the one that said Cecil thought Carlos was adorable but possibly too dumb to function.

"Noooo," Cecil answered. "Aezriljinimth is allergic to all human skin cells not in contact with the floor, which is what dust mostly is." There was an unspoken _duh_ before Cecil continued, "Why did you think I told you to always wear socks or shoes when you're home?"

Carlos stared at Cecil, then at the red- and fuchsia-striped socks on his feet.

He went back to dusting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For [betterrunforthestars](http://betterrunforthestars.tumblr.com/)'s prompt: Carlos trying to woo Cecil with terrible pick-up line and Cecil taking it very seriously! :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](http://whitedatura.tumblr.com/post/67379558819/betterrunforthestars-answered-your-question). I couldn't resist using the pick-up line I picked.
> 
> Please accompany this with the mental image of Carlos reading Romance for Dummies hidden inside an official-looking science book. ;)

"Did it hurt?" Carlos asked.

"Did what hurt? You know my pain receptors are a little iffy sometimes."

"When you, uh. When you fell from heaven."

"When I... Carlos, what are you talking about? Are _you_ hurt? I hope you haven't been trying to research the hierarchical structure of heaven, you know no one's allowed to know about it. Because it doesn't exist."

"Because you look like an angel," Carlos finished weakly.

Actually, Cecil looked offended. "Did something happen to your glasses? I most certainly do _not_ look like Erika. I _exist_ , for one thing, and I don't have any wings. I mean, I think I exist. We both do, don't we?"

Carlos buried his face in his hands. "Never mind."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon's prompt: Carlos starts going bald.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](http://whitedatura.tumblr.com/post/67407568031/carlos-starts-going-bald).

The alarm on Carlos's phone jerked him out of a strange dream where tiny people marched in formation across his pillows, squeaking orders, armed with swords the size of needles.

Something didn't feel right. 

Carlos shrugged the feeling off and fumbled for his glasses before swinging his legs over the side of the bed to sleepily make his way to the bathroom. 

The bathroom mirror was covered by an old pillowcase he'd tacked up the first night Cecil had stayed over. He started to tuck a corner out of the way so he could see to shave and froze, mouth dropping open as he caught sight of his reflection.

Do not panic, Carlos told himself. It could be a simple mirror malfunction.

Carefully, slowly, he brought his other hand up to the top of his head and concluded that the mirror was not malfunctioning.

His hair was gone. Just -- gone.

***

"Teddy Williams, owner of the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex, reports that the denizens of the underground city have issued a message via the electronic scorecards. The message is, 'THE HAIR OF YOUR WAR LEADER IS OURS.' I didn't know something that long could _fit_ on those scorecards, but that is what it says. No one knows who the underground city thinks is our war leader, but Teddy Williams, as the leader of our militia, is insulted and annoyed that all of his hair is intact.

"If you know — oh, I just got a text. Um. If you have any information on Night Vale’s supposed war leader, please — huh. Another text. Let me take a quick look — oh. _Oh_. This is _terrible_! The texts are from Carlos, who says — oh, no, no, no — he says he is no longer in possession of his perfect hair. This cannot be a coincidence, listeners, and an insult — no, a _crime_ against humanity like this _cannot_ go unpunished. I’m sure the City Council and Sheriff’s Secret Police agree and will do something about it immediately.

"If you’re out on the streets, listeners, stomp _hard_. Do it for me. Do it for Carlos. Do it for all of us."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For [twistedverve](http://twistedverve.tumblr.com/)'s prompt: Hiram McDaniels and the Old Faceless Woman who lives in your home get paired up via blind match-making service.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](http://whitedatura.tumblr.com/post/67375333800/hiram-mcdaniels-and-the-old-faceless-woman-who-lives-in).

"In an effort to avoid -- or at least curtail -- widespread public massacre this coming Valentine's Day, the City Council has issued a mandate that all of age citizens will be taking part in a fun new dating service run by the Sheriff's Secret Police! Doesn't that sound fun? Citizens who are already married or in an otherwise committed relationship -- like myself -- must apply to be exempt from this publicly mandated service. The appropriate forms will appear under your pillow some time in the next week. Be sure to fill them out promptly, as they will be collected randomly. A form left blank will not end well for anyone, listeners."

***

"Reports are coming in that the first round of blind dates arranged by the Sheriff's Secret Police have gone very well! Among the new happy couples are Teddy Williams and Po'lestat Gemi IV, the supreme general of the underground city -- who would have guessed that one, huh? -- and Trish Hidge, aid to former Mayor Winchell, and Leann Hart! Congratulations on your new-found romance! I hope you'll be as happy as Carlos and I are."

***

"It is now illegal to talk or think about the second round of blind dates arranged by the Sheriff's Secret Police. The third round is currently underway, though, and I'm sure we'll be getting reports of some successful dates soon!

"Intern Maryth has just handed me an eyewitness account -- oooh, it looks like there is a _very_ special date going on at the hastily-arranged outdoor patio area of Gino's! Hiram McDaniels, former mayoral candidate and valued Night Vale citizen, has been matched with the Faceless Old Woman who secretly lives in your home, also a former mayoral candidate! I'm sure they'll have lots to talk about.

"Although I am still unsure how that works, since the Faceless Old Woman does not have a mouth, but I'm sure Hiram's five heads will be able to fill any awkward silences."

***

"Good news, listeners! The fire at Gino's has been put out, having destroyed only two city blocks. The public library was one of the many buildings that burned to the ground, so I think we owe Hiram McDaniels a big 'thank you' for a well-performed public service.

"But did love bloom amidst the crackling flames? Old Woman Josie reports that since the Faceless Old Woman secretly lives in everyone's home, including Hiram McDaniels', the evening might have taken a decidedly intimate turn! Another happy couple, listeners."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For [pacaprincess](http://pacaprincess.tumblr.com/)'s prompt: Carlos having to shush and calm Cecil down after a bad dream? ;3;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](http://whitedatura.tumblr.com/post/67442913629/carlos-having-to-shush-and-calm-cecil-down-after-a-bad).

Carlos jerked awake, eyes flying open to the familiar play of streetlights across the ceiling. There was a low keening sound coming from -- from Cecil, laying next to him, but somehow he knew that wasn't what had woken him. It was, however, much more important.

Cecil was laying on his side, his back to Carlos. In the dim light of the room Carlos couldn't see any immediate threats, so he cautiously put a hand on Cecil's bare shoulder.

"Cecil?" No response, but the keening stopped. His worry ratcheted up a notch. "Cecil, are you okay? What happened?"

"I'm fine," Cecil rasped, sounding the opposite of fine. Carlos heard him clear his throat, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet night. "Go back to sleep."

There was no chance of that happening with Cecil shivering and clearly distressed, but trying to cajole him into talking didn't feel right. Instead Carlos scooted closer, carefully looping an arm around Cecil's waist and waiting for any sign of rejection before settling in with his chest pressed to Cecil's back. The heavy, wet breaths coming from Cecil started to sound a little more normal, but the shivering didn't stop.

"You're not sleeping," Cecil said after a while, an edge of accusation in his voice.

"I can't. Not until I know you're okay."

Cecil made a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh and twisted in Carlos's arms until his face was smushed against Carlos's neck. "It's stupid," he muttered.

"It's not stupid if you're this upset," Carlos said. "You don't have to tell me, but you can. If you want to." 

Cecil's fingers drummed a pattern on Carlos's hip for a long time as they laid there in silence. Carlos felt the deep breath Cecil took before finally saying, "It was your dream."

Carlos blinked. "My dream?"

"I _told_ you it was stupid," Cecil said, trying to squirm away.

Carlos did not let him. "You can see my dreams?"

"Uh, yeah," Cecil said, the unspoken _duh_ making him sound much more like himself. 

Carlos could question the existence of dream-sharing later. "I don't know what dream you're talking about."

"You were -- you were falling. You were falling and then you -- weren't -- and I _saw_ it and -- it reminded me of --" Cecil took another deep breath, then demanded, "Are your dreams ever prophetic?"

"No? No. I don't think so."

All the tension abruptly left Cecil's body. "You could have told me that _months_ ago, you know, it would have saved me a lot of worrying! I wouldn't have teased you. It's fine that your dreams aren't prophetic; almost twenty percent of Night Vale's citizens don't dream at all!"

Carlos opened his mouth to question why _he_ was suddenly the one being comforted about his apparent lack of prophetic ability, then decided it wasn't worth it. Cecil was clearly feeling better, and that was what mattered.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For [evbay](http://evbay.tumblr.com/)'s prompt: Carlos visiting/comforting Cecil after the events of episode 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](http://whitedatura.tumblr.com/post/67538785447/carlos-is-a-man-of-action-who-talks-to-shelving-when).  
> I've kind of got something in the works for the events of Cassette, so it took me a bit to come up with something else and uh here have some sentient shelving? This one kind of got a bit longer than a drabble.

Despite being a scientist, Carlos was sometimes terrible at thinking things through before jumping in with both feet. That was how he'd ended up in Night Vale in the first place, and that was why he was now standing in front of City Hall.

City Hall was, presumably, where the tablets were, and the tablets might have some answers for Cecil.

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon as Carlos trotted up the stairs to the entrance, trying to look like he had a Very Official and Important Purpose so that no one would question why he was there. It also helped him to not question his own actions.

He'd only been in City Hall once or twice that he could remember, but the basement, with its dank and narrow corridors that smelled faintly of urine and despair, seemed like a logical place to start. With that firmly in mind, Carlos headed toward the marble staircase leading to the second floor. 

No one stopped him. No one challenged him. A few hooded figures glided silently past and did not acknowledge his existence.

For a small town, Night Vale's City Hall was bigger than really seemed necessary, but it didn't take Carlos long to find what he was looking for, since the room he was looking for was clearly marked with a plaque that said, _TABLET STORAGE_.

It wasn't locked.

The lights flickered on as he entered, revealing rows and rows of shelves all groaning under the weight of thousands of stone and clay tablets. Actually, audibly groaning. 

"So... heavy..." a set of particularly rickety-looking orange metal shelves whimpered as he passed.

There was no organizational system that Carlos could ascertain, and the tablets themselves were -- well. Maybe one in twenty were in some form of English. Most were covered in runes, pictograms, cuneiform, or Cyrillic.

Carlos did the only thing he could do: he asked the shelves. "Excuse me," he said, hoping sentient shelves weren't inexplicably offended by politeness, "but could you tell me where the tablet about Cecil Palmer is located? Cecil Gershwin Palmer." 

A low murmur filled the room as the shelves conferred amongst themselves.

"Over here," a tired voice finally said from the corner of the room. "Third shelf, second stack, fourth from the top."

"Thank you."

"Tip me over," the shelves whispered as he got closer. "Please. Do it. Tip me. I'm so tired. I'm so tired."

"Um," said Carlos, wiggling Cecil's tablet free. "I don't think I should do that. I'm sorry."

"Please," the shelves whispered again. Carlos ignored it.

Cecil's tablet was a combination of runes and cuneiform, none of which Carlos could read, and he was pretty sure someone would notice if he tried to stagger out of City Hall carrying a large stone tablet. He patted his pockets, hoping for a pen, but remembered his last stash had been destroyed by ink-mites. The only other thing he could think to do was take a picture with his phone and pray that nothing exploded. 

He dragged the tablet over to where the light was the best, tuning out the moans and whimpers of the shelves, and carefully lined up the shot, one finger poised to eject the data storage card where all his pictures were saved.

The phone began to melt immediately upon taking the picture, which was a lot better than exploding. He singed his palm and the tip of his finger ejecting the data card, but it seemed to be intact.

The shelves were ominously quiet as he put Cecil's tablet back and left the room, the data card tucked into his sock. 

The sun hadn't moved. A few months ago that would have bothered him, but today he was just glad that he'd have enough time to get to Cecil's before the Council-mandated curfew.

***

It took Cecil so long to answer his door that Carlos's second thoughts began to have second thoughts of their own, and when the door did swing open, Cecil looked terrible.

"Carlos," Cecil said, hoarse and startled. "I, um," he cleared his throat and blinked a few times before hastily straightening his tunic and patting down his disheveled hair. "I wasn't expecting to see you tonight. Not that I'm not happy to see you."

"Sorry, I would have called, but my phone melted. Can I come in?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Cecil said, stepping aside. "Curfew is soon, you might have to stay here tonight," he added. Normally Cecil would have loaded a remark like that with so much innuendo even Carlos would have noticed, but tonight it was a simple statement of fact.

Cecil led him to the living room and Carlos pretended not to see him shoving aside an empty ice cream carton and a pile of dirty socks before he flopped down on the couch.

"What, um," Cecil cleared his throat again, "what brings you here? Did something scientifically significant happen?"

"No. I -- I was listening to your broadcast and, uh, I... I'm really sorry if it was a bad idea, but I went to City Hall and found the tablet about you but I couldn't read it so I took a picture on my phone and I have it in my sock if you want to look at it?" Carlos got out in a rush. "I thought it... might help?"

Cecil gaped at him. "You broke into the tablet storage room in City Hall _for me_?"

"Ye-es? There wasn't really any breaking -- oomph."

" _Carlos_ ," Cecil said, now in Carlos's lap. "Oh, that is so -- I can't believe you -- _Carlos_."

Carlos rubbed Cecil's back with one hand and awkwardly reached for his foot with the other to fish the data card out. "Here."

He was not prepared for Cecil to drop it in a bowl on the coffee table and set fire to it, but that was precisely what happened.

After they'd watched it char and melt into a tiny heap of uselessness, Cecil said, "I don't want you to get in trouble for me -- that you would even _do_ that is -- it's -- it means a lot. Thank you."

Carlos closed his eyes and leaned against Cecil's shoulder. "I just wanted to help."

"You did, Carlos. You did."

**Author's Note:**

> I'll add any future drabbles to this compilation.
> 
> (On a related note, feel free to [prompt me](http://whitedatura.tumblr.com/ask). :D)


End file.
